


Sea Legs

by betweenfactandbreakfast



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Mild Smut, Post-Game(s), hawke and isabela sailing away, really mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenfactandbreakfast/pseuds/betweenfactandbreakfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Isabela on the open ocean, sailing to Rivain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sea Legs

**Author's Note:**

> *shakes angry fist at DAI for splitting my girls up*

“You know,” Said Isabela, tossing the rope over the side and stepping onto the deck. “I think it might be nice. Just the two of us, prowling the high seas.”

“ _Might_ be nice?” Hawke teased. “I have to admit, I had a bit more confidence in how much pleasure you got out of my company.”

Isabela made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Oh, stop it. You know what I mean. I’m trying to make myself feel better about leaving that lot in Rialto. Especially Merrill. What if she gets shivved?”

“They’ll be fine, I expect. Unless Anders decides to blow up any more buildings.” Hawke grabbed her hand, spun her around in a circle. “Stop worrying. Think about all the exciting places on this ship we haven’t had sex in yet.”

“Good point! Anders always up on deck moping was sort of a mood-killer.” Isabela smirked, dropped a kiss on Hawke’s lips, and tugged her towards the stern. “Come on, let’s get her moving.”

 Isabela placed one expert hand on the wheel and motioned for Hawke to loose the sail.

As they pulled out of the port, wind filling the sails and the sea filling her heart, Isabela closed her eyes and breathed it in. She loved this moment, the beginning of a journey, an endless ocean of possibilities stretching before her. And it was made even better when Hawke slid her arms around her waist, resting her chin on Isabela’s shoulder. Her touch, as ever, made Isabela’s skin tingle. She opened her eyes.

“We’ll go to Llomerryn, I think.” Isabela said, covering Hawke’s hands with one of hers.

“Where you were born,” Hawke noted.

“Mmm,” Isabela leant back into her lover’s arms. “I can’t wait to show you the Llomerryn markets, the sunrise over the Black Cliffs, each and every whorehouse I used to frequent…”

Hawke laughed, softly. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely.” She said. “When were you there last?”

“It’s been years and years.” Isabela admitted. “I imagine it will be much the same as when I left, though. The Rivaini people don’t do well with change. It’s been millions of years and we’ve still got our seers, and our traditions, and all of it. An Exalted March couldn’t destroy what’s in our blood. A bloody annulment…” She left off, studying her fingers across Hawke’s.

Isabela felt Hawke stiffen behind her. They’d only recieved the news about the Annulment of Dairsmuid’s Circle a few days past, and it was this more than anything that had prompted their split with Anders, Merrill, and Varric. But Hawke was upset by it too, Isabela could tell. _Isabela_ was upset by it. In Rivain, mages and magic was generally a part of life. They were just regular people, common people. It was like thinking of her childhood neighbours being cut down by a chantry sword.

“Will there be an increased Chantry presence, do you think?” Hawke asked quietly.

“Not in Llomerryn. There’s no Circle there, and trying to bring order is a task both the Qun and the Chantry seem to find daunting.” Isabela said. “So they leave well enough alone. The Raiders of the Waking Sea rule there, and the supposed ‘Free Man’. Whoever he may be.”

“Lucky bastard, whoever he is.” Hawke said. She let go of Isabela, went to lean on the railing. The wind whipped at her hair. It was longer than it had been when Isabela had met her, choppy black strands falling into her face and sticking to her lips. Gorgeous, Isabela thought.

Gorgeous, although quite obviously worn down by being on the run. Isabela knew that she’d spent the better part of her childhood on the run, but that had been different. She’d had a family then, something tying her back. Isabela tried to be _something_ for her, but it was all different now.  The Chantry had exploded, their world of mages and Templars and more mages had gone to shit, and Hawke hadn’t slept properly since.

“Could you run down and let some more sail out, sweet thing?” Isabela said. “I’d like to take full advantage of this wind.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Hawke quipped, hopping down to the lower deck. She unwound the rope that bound the gallants and topsails, just as Isabela had taught her.

“I see someone’s found her sea legs,” Isabela said as Hawke rejoined her on the poop deck. She tried to inject a bit of flirtiness into her voice, hopefully lightening the mood. “You’re becoming quite the sailor.”

“Well, I had a good teacher.” Hawke replied, flashing her a grin.

Maker, it was good to be at the helm of a ship again. And it was good to be with Hawke.

“So, now what?” Hawke said, sweeping her hair back with one hand. It was futile, though, because the wind immediately pushed it back into her face.

“Come over here,” Isabela said.

“Aye, aye, captain.” Hawke cleared the few paces between them, kissed her like only Hawke could kiss. Isabela tilted her chin up, leaning back against the wheel.

“You know, this has been a fantasy of mine for a while,” She commented as Hawke kissed her neck. “It plays out exactly like this, well done.”

Hawke only laughed, pushing up the hem of Isabela’s white shift, hooking her underwear down to her knees with a finger. Isabela shivered with delight at her touch, tilting her face towards the sky. A seagull passed overhead, burnt black against the cloudless blue sky. Hawke kneeled before her, kissed her thighs and belly and between, hands slipping around Isabela’s hips.

Isabela squeezed her eyes shut, and let it wash over her.


End file.
